I have been a wife and mother for over twenty years. Now I am becoming my husband's lover, too.
We owe it all to my fellow bloggers who gave me the courage to come out to my husband as a spanko.
I do feel like this is a New Beginning for us.

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Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Do I want to be spanked?

I suppose out here in our world that title seems like a stupid question. I guess even more stupid than that is that I don’t know the answer.  I’m as confused as I’ve ever been. I know I’m a spanko and could never be anything else, I want to read about it, day dream about it and certainly write about it. But I don’t really want to do it.

I’m hesitant to write this for several reasons. One is that I don’t want anyone to think I’m complaining about Nick. I’m not. I’m not the least bit upset with Nick about anything. He’s as close to the perfect husband as a wife could hope for. The second reason is that Eva is just getting back into this and I’m thrilled for her, I don’t want my musings to bring her newly found enthusiasm down. (So stop reading, twin, we’ll talk of your current experiences.) But I write here to help me sort out my feelings so here goes.

We all know that there are many different types of spanking relationships, the gambit runs from a fun slap and tickle kind of thing only used for giggles and for sex, to extremely strict, truly getting your ass seriously busted for deviating in any way from what your HOH has said. Neither of these extremes appeals to me in the least. So if I were to put these on a scale of 1 – 10, one being the just for fun and ten being bruised butt, corner time, grounded, where are you? Where do you want to be?

   Just for fun                                                                            in real trouble
1       2       3       4        5       6       7       8      9     10

I’m at a one, I think I’d like to be at least at a three or four.  It’s like I really, really want to curl up on the couch and watch a good movie. I don't want to watch movies 24/7 but when I do, I want to see something I can get into, something that seems real to me and that I can lose myself in – maybe ever cry a little or at least feel some emotion. But the only DVD’s we seem to have are Sponge Bob reruns, and if that’s my only choice, then just turn off the damn TV.

I know Nick would help me if he could, but he can’t. He knows the scale goes past two, but he has no true concept of what that involves. It’s not in his DNA and that’s not his fault, it would be like trying to change your blood type.

Nick rarely reads here and I’ve made the choice to not share these feelings with him. I mean I certainly have over the years, but I’ve come to realize that where we are now is good enough for Nick. I don’t think he wants anymore, he seems completely happy with what we have now.

And me? I’m pretty content. What we have is so much better than the way we used to be. But at the same time, I know that there’s more, I know because we’ve been there for brief periods, but … I just don’t know how to get there again.

Sometime I just want to tell him to stop spanking at all. With no emotion attached, then all it does is hurt, I might as well stub my toe. I'm just tired of nothing but cartoons.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Simple things

Just felt like chatting – I don’t have much on topic these days. But I have enjoyed my weekend. Mollie’s been home. She and I went to see the movie, Tammy, so many good actors in this one. I don’t expect it will be nominated for an Oscar, but it was cute and we enjoyed it.

We had a family pool party to celebrate my great-nephew’s seventh birthday. I was happy to have it here, I needed to get a jump on my cleaning. My family reunion is coming up next weekend. It’s going to be smaller than usual this year. The number in attendance has varied over the years from around fifteen to forty over the years. Real life sometimes gets in the way. But since we have such a small group this year I invited the new preacher to join us for Sunday lunch.

Nick and I thought about taking a quick trip to NYC to visit with LJ and Colin, we haven’t seen them since December and they weren’t planning to come this way until January. But to be honest I didn’t want to go to NYC.  It’s expensive – plane fair, hotel room, and food. Not to mention I’m uneasy getting around without a guide. So I asked LJ if they would be wiling to take time off and come here if I got them a couple of plane tickets, and they loved the idea.  This way Colin gets to see his family too. They’ll be here the middle of September. I can’t wait!

Maybe someday I'll have something on topic to talk about until then, you're stuck with the simple everyday things of life. 

Friday, July 25, 2014

Fantasy Friday - Another Chance (and a problem)

Blogland – we have a problem. I’m very worried that Fantasy Friday is coming to an end. It seems we just don’t have that many people interested in writing for us anymore. We may just be going through a dry spell, but it’s a fairly long one. We have had some new stories, and I do appreciate them, but only a handful in the last six months.

I’m reposting a seven-part story that was one of my favorites. That will take us into September and then we’ll see if Fantasy Friday continues or it comes to a close. I’m hoping people will think of writing a story and sending it in during these seven weeks. I’m really talking to those who don’t have blogs, it’s not that I’d turn them down – but honest if you have a blog it’s only fair that your stories should appear there. I think of Fantasy Friday as the place for first time storywriters to dip their toe in the writing pool. Think about it and we’ll see what comes in.

Meanwhile I this is a great story even if you’ve read it before. It’s from my friend Annie-nyomous I hope you’ll come back and join us for all seven parts.

Another Chance

Sylvia Morris took stock of the image in her mirror. The turquoise silk draped a figure that was curvy, but still slender. Not bad for an old dame of fifty. She mockingly saluted her reflection before sauntering down the stairs, trying not to think about the man waiting in her living room.

"Well, are you ready?" she breezed into the room, not giving him a chance to respond; she grabbed her purse and walked out the front door.

Bill Reedy stared at her backside, swaying in silk as she marched down the walk in heels far too high for her own good. After keeping him waiting for over an hour, now she was in too much of a hurry to close her own door.

"Wait a minute while I lock up." His irritation plain in his controlled tone.

"No need, I always leave it unlocked, that way the kids can stop in even if I'm not around." Sylvia smiled at the low growl; she knew she was pushing all of his buttons.

"That is it. Stop right there. We are going back inside for a little talk."

Grabbing Sylvia's arm he turned her around and almost dragged her through the door.

"But Bill, we'll be late for our reservation."

"Sit down. Our reservation was for 45 minutes ago. Stay put while I call the restaurant and cancel."

Sylvia almost laughed out loud at the indignant tone in his voice as he explained a last minute problem and made his apologies. She had been deliberately trying his patience for months, waiting for him to take charge. Now that the time had come she dreaded the consequences, but knew they could not go on the way they had been.


Bill and Sylvia went to high school together. Lived two blocks apart. Even dated, albeit halfheartedly, whenever they were both between relationships. Sylvia was off to college, eager to get out into the big world. Bill went to the local community college, married Sylvia's best friend, worked hard, built a business, and raised a family in the old neighborhood. Sylvia got her degree; discovered art history wasn't her ticket to the big time, worked in a department store until she couldn't take any more. Her father passed away, her mother was getting older, after the funeral Sylvia stayed on to think about her life.

After a few weeks she decided to make it permanent, took a job as a substitute teacher, waited for her life to begin. Running into Kay at the grocery led to a reunion dinner. Sylvia struggled to cover her envy. While she was in the big city waiting for life to become exciting, her two oldest friends were living a good life. It wasn't glamorous, just a comfortable house, two cute, well behaved kids, a thriving business. It was the way they looked at each other, like they were still dating, like they were going to rip their clothes off the minute she walked out their door. They all promised to get together again and Sylvia went home to her mother's house. Climbed into the same bed she grew up in, and cried herself to sleep.

Kay bullied Sylvia into another dinner, citing years of missing Christmas cards and various other sins of friendship. She walked into their house, dreading another evening with the perfect family. Seated on the couch was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Ray Kidder was Bill's business partner. He had been planning a quiet Friday night at home, relaxing. Kay had railroaded him into making up the fourth for bridge with the promise of one of her excellent home cooked meals.

Sylvia, drawn to his casual self-assurance, offered her hand with a quip about blind dates.
Ray took her hand, held it, pulled her close and murmured in her ear.

"When you're on a date with me you'll know it."

The electricity between them was instantaneous. Sylvia was smitten with his strength; at last someone who seemed to know who she was. Ray was resigned, she needed someone to take her in hand, and he couldn’t bear the thought of another man laying a finger on her. Divorced, he had expected to spend the rest of his years alone.

After a whirlwind courtship and a sudden elopement Ray expected to settle down to a quiet routine. Sylvia dashed those hopes with her announcement that she would not be taking his name. Never one to miss an opportunity for an audience, she made this the topic for their dinner. The one their friends and family were invited to, to break the news that they had eloped. No one but Ray seemed the least bit surprised.

At home, alone, getting ready for their first night as husband and wife, Sylvia was shocked to learn that keeping her maiden name was an issue for him. Ray was shocked to learn that Sylvia expected to do as she damn well pleased whether he approved or not. It occurred to Ray that there were a number of things they should have discussed before racing off to the justice of the peace.

A heated discussion led to a temper tantrum, which led to Ray upending his new bride for her very first bare bottomed communication. Once the dust settled, and the tears dried, a
compromise was reached. Ray understood her reluctance to let her family name go, she would be the last Morris, once her mother passed. Sylvia understood that her new husband had some peculiar ideas about being in charge, and obedience, but the sex was fabulous. It was easy to simply agree to discipline, when one never expected to need it.

As the years passed they built a good life. Both agreed it was too late for children, but Bill and Kay’s kids were a big part of their lives. In fact, the two families grew closer, spending most weekends together, cooking out, going to the kid’s ballgames, sailing at the lake. Sylvia and Ray were married ten years before they realized just how much they had in common with their best friends.

Ray and Bill surprised their wives with a week’s vacation at a remote lakefront cabin. The kids were away at camp, it was a slow time for the business, and the wives were restless and bored.

The first night, watching the sunset over the water, was so peaceful. Both couples were excited to get away and reconnect. By the third day, there was trouble in paradise. Sylvia was certain that Ray would never spank her with Bill and Kay in the cabin. It took very little coaxing to convince Kay to take the small sailboat out on the lake while the guys were off fishing. The two women were veteran sailors, having spent hundreds of hours riding on Bill’s sailboat at home. This boat was so much smaller, it would be easy. Never mind that they had both been told to wait for the men to go sailing.

Fortunately for them, the lake was not very deep off of the end of the dock. They managed to “sail” about 50 yards before capsizing the boat. To make matters worse, they were standing on the end of the dock, dripping wet, and screaming at each other about whose stupid idea it was when the men arrived.

Ray and Bill couldn’t help laughing as their bedraggled wives tried to explain why it was not their fault the sailboat was lying on it’s side. This led to a bit of temper from the women who did not think this was a funny matter. Both men sobered instantly, grabbed their respective wives, reminded them that they had received explicit instructions to leave the boat alone until the men returned, and propelled their wives toward the cabin with a sharp swat on the bottom and the direction to wait in their bedroom.

A sharp wind made righting the boat a bigger task than expected. After two hours the men were in no laughing mood. Just the thought that they might have gotten to the middle of the lake before sinking was bad enough; the life jackets still on the dock were the final straw. Not sure how to explain, Ray decided to tell the truth. He asked Bill if he would like some privacy to deal with Kay, as he would be blistering Sylvia’s butt for this stunt and did not want to make them uncomfortable. Bill, wondering how to approach the same subject, was relieved. They decided that if the girls wanted to get into trouble together, they could be punished together. It would serve them right.

Two very surprised wives were called to the living room, lectured, and tossed over their husband’s lap. Amid shrieks of outrage the sound of hard hands hitting soft bottoms filled the air. After a few minutes both women were limp and sobbing. Ray stood Sylvia up and sent her to their room for his paddle. She scurried with her hands covering her, embarrassed at being bare bottomed in front of Bill. He was far too busy giving Kay the worst spanking of her life to notice.

Sylvia endured several minutes of lecturing before Ray proceeded to blister her butt with the little paddle he had made. Sylvia hated that paddle, it burned like fire, and the way Ray turned her up over one knee gave him total access to the back of her thighs. He wasn’t finished until she was beet red to her knees and too limp to wiggle.

Bill wasn’t much of a lecturer, and he preferred to use his hand. Years as a contractor had toughened his big hands with calluses and he swung his hand tirelessly. Kay shrieked and struggled to escape as he rained several blows to each spot before moving on. Even without a paddle Bill managed to reduce his wife to a limp sobbing bundle, although her punishment did go on longer than Sylvia’s.

Satisfied that the point had been made, two sobbing, well-punished girls were led to the fireplace to lean on the mantle and think about their punishment. Peeking in from the kitchen, Ray quietly retrieved his Polaroid and took a picture of two very contrite women, arms around one another, each rubbing the other’s blistered bottom. It was one of his most prized possessions.

After that, the girls frequently discussed their punishments, even arguing over who had it the worst. Sylvia, who always got the paddle, or Kay who only got hand spankings, but very long ones.

They made a habit of taking at least one vacation together every year. No matter how certain they were that they would behave, each time the wives found themselves caught out, and endured another joint punishment. Some years, more than one.

The business had prospered, both families enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle. Bill and Kay’s kids were grown and off on their own. The two couples were planning a trip to Europe when Kay was diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was a difficult year for everyone. Kay refused to discuss her illness. Bill spent more and more time at home, taking her for an endless round of specialists and treatments. Ray covered the office, as usual, plus did his best to supervise the field crews. The final chemo left Kay too weak to walk, bald and frail, but with cautious optimism for a full recovery. After her six-month check up they celebrated with the postponed trip to Europe. All enjoying a renewed faith in life, and vowing to slow down and enjoy things.

Two months later, after a Saturday night dinner, Kay asked for their help in celebrating. She produced a bottle of her favorite champagne, offered a toast to a full and rewarding life, and dropped a bombshell. The cancer had returned, it was spreading rapidly, and she had decided against treatment this time.

Sylvia stayed with Kay until the end, trading shifts with Bill so she was never alone. The last night, she seemed stronger, even visited for a while. Then she was gone.

A year dragged by, it was uncomfortable trying to figure out how they fit together without Kay. Then, it was Sylvia’s turn to watch her world crumble. Ray suffered a massive heart attack at work. They rushed him to the hospital but there was too much damage. Late that night he passed.


Sylvia wandered through her house, lost. It was hard to know what to do with her time. Her whole life had been built around her husband and her friends, now both were gone.

Bill called Sylvia, asked her to meet him for lunch to go over some voting issues on the stock Ray had left to her. They enjoyed catching up with news of the kids, and Sylvia was touched when he asked her to chair the trust fund he had established in Kay’s name. It came at the perfect time, he needed someone who knew Kay, she needed someone who needed her.

They drifted along for over a year, seeing one another socially, working on the trust, and sharing an occasional dinner. Sylvia knew Ray would want her to be happy, in fact she dreamed of Ray and Kay smiling at her reluctance to move forward. If there was going to be another man in her life, Bill was the only candidate.

So began the great campaign to drive him into admitting she needed him to “handle” her.
She was constantly late, forgot appointments, left important papers at home, all things she knew drove him crazy. He ignored her bad behavior, chalked it up to not being over her grief, and let her run wild. Until she decided to start leaving her door unlocked. That was going too far. She could be forgetful, but putting herself in danger was totally unacceptable.

Bill marched Sylvia in to the living room and began lecturing her. She made the mistake of smiling, happy to know he still cared for her. Before she knew what happened she was bottoms up, over his knee and his hand hurt every bit as much as any paddle. Just when she was sure she couldn’t take any more, he stood her up, and shook her roughly by her shoulders.

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to leave your house unlocked? Any nut case could waltz right in.  I know Ray wouldn’t put up with your nonsense, and by God, I won’t either.”

Back over his lap she went for another blistering round. This time, slower and harder, each area receiving several swats before moving on, steadily tattooing her bottom and the backs of her legs.

When he decided she had learned her lesson she was limp and her bottom was burning like never before. He carried her to her room and laid her on the bed, holding her close, soothing her tears away. When she had stopped sobbing he explained that Ray had asked him to take care of her and it was obvious that they would have to marry. He couldn’t go around spanking another man’s wife. Then there was the other part, Kay had never mentioned that a punishment wasn’t considered complete until all was forgiven by making love. Sylvia had to laugh at that. She may end up missing those fiery, but short, sessions with Ray’s paddle, but she was happy to trade an hour in the corner alone for a good romp in bed.

This was just what they both needed, another chance to enjoy life.


I told you it was a great story. Now I hope you’ll be thinking of your story to write. It can be short or in several parts. Trust me we’re an encouraging bunch. Just give it a try. Send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Meeting the new preacher

I had a delightful afternoon with our new minister. All your advice and suggestions yesterday were right on and I was happy to feel you all had my back.

I want to tell you about my invitation to her. First I though of how my mother would have dealt with inviting a new minister to visit our home. First she would never have been comfortable meeting her alone so she would probably have given a tea.  We would have cleaned for a week and she would have
gotten out the good china and polished the silver. The good lace tablecloth would have been unpacked and the candles on the table lit. In my childhood the ladies of the church would have arrived wearing their pillbox hats and white gloves. There would have been tiny finger sandwiches, homemade mints, cheese straws, nut and small pickles served in the crystal dish currently packed away with my wedding china. My mother would have worked to achieve a charming atmosphere and Tom Duff would have seen her as a perfect lady.

In theory, I miss all that. It’s very nostalgic to remember all that and the wonderful southern ladies from our church that would have attended.  I thought of those ladies today, most are gone, but there are a few left. They wouldn’t have approved of my invitation to the new minister, but they would have grudgingly been proud of the way the afternoon went.

I sent my invite through Facebook message. I told her I’d love to meet and talk and would she like to come over to the pool for cookies, chips and Sundrop. She sounded thrilled. She called when she was on her way over, to be sure I was serious about the pool. I was and she arrived with her bathing suit under her shorts. We hit the pool and quickly began talking as old friends would.

We both discussed out kids. College, life ambitions, soon I was telling her Mollie was in her last year of college and LJ had married the previous November. I said, “ I don’t know if anyone else has mentioned it, but LJ is gay and he and Collin had dated for nine years before they married.” She seemed delighted for them and asked if we’d been able to attend the wedding. I told her certainly, and it was one of the best wedding ever. She was wonderful asking what they did in NY and if they wanted children. I couldn’t have asked for a better response. She says she would love to meet the boys whenever they come down.

We hit nearly every topic – including reading and writing. I mentioned I wrote stories and we talked on. Finally as we continued I told her I had a book published, and that it was about an older couple. But that while I’d let my daughter read it and I would have let my mother, it could still be considered objectionable to some. She didn’t press, but after we got out of the pool and were sunning she did ask, “You said you’d let your mother and daughter read it, how about your minister?”

I just looked at her for while, she grinned and said nothing more. Finally I asked her if she had ever read the ‘Miss Julia’ series. (If you haven’t – DO! They’re fantastic!) They are about a little old lady in NC and though it’s not one of ‘our’ books Miss Julie is a hoot. Not only had she read then she had met the author and gotten to know her rather well. Next I asked,   Have you read Fifty Shades?  Okay, now that made her pause. She looked at me for a minute and said, “As your minister, do I lie about it or just tell you I enjoyed them?”  I had to laugh. I told her my books were Miss Julia meets Fifty Shades. She seemed delighted and wants to read them. Although I would never have believed it, I actually handed her one of my cards with the three books on it.  Maybe I’m too trusting these days, but at the same time I feel I’m a pretty good judge of character. And I’m looking forward to building this friendship, I think she’s pretty cool.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

So what should I lead with?

In the church I’ve attended all my life our tradition is to change ministers ever four to six year. We recently got a new minister, and for the first time it’s a lady.  Her kids are close to the same age as mine. I invited her over to the house later today to get to know her better.  But now that she coming I have a big questions and I’m hoping you all can provide me an answer.

Do I lead off the conversations with my gay son or the fact that I write kinky spanking books?  Just wondering.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Can you believe it?

Eight years ago today I began New Beginnings. Eight years. So many wonderful things have happened in my life during those eight years. I credit blogland with most of these things and I definitely want to say 

I’ve made the most amazing friends I’ve ever had in my lifetime. Friends that I can tell my deepest darkest secrets too, with nothing held back.

I’ve had the privilege of meeting Eva, Grace, CeeCi, Mthc, Florida Dom, Sunny Girl, and Katie in person and I’ve traveled to Virginia, Ohio, Nevada and California for the soul purpose of meeting some of these fantastic people. And now I have friend in several other countries that I’d love to meet also.

I’ve gained a self-confidence that I did not have before blogging. Blogging gave me a voice and practice at saying clearly what I believed. When you would come by and often agreed with me and encourage me, it made me feel like what I had to say mattered. I thank every commenter I’ve ever had for that.

I don’t know anyone out here who is not special, but two that come to mind are, Paul – who has been a loyal reader and commenter since my very first post on each of my blogs. Except when he has been in the hospital I think he has comment on nearly ever post I’ve ever done and at this moment that’s about 2,306.  He’s known me the whole eight years and never waivered once.

The other person who comes to mind is Bas. Bas credited blogland with extending his life. Maybe we did – I know we brought him joy and happiness and I know he returned it to us ten fold, along with his loving wisdom.

I took over Fantasy Friday in September of 2007 and to date we’ve had right about three hundred new stories. I’ve met great people, that have sent in stories and I’m proud to say that there are several blogs out here now because of my pestering Fantasy Friday writers and my friends that read here.

I’ve become a published author – a life long dream was to let Cassie come to life and despite a rocky start you all seem to embrace her as you did me.

I’ve become a mother-in-law to a fine young man.

I’ve become an empty nester – Something Eva told me long ago I would survive, but I didn’t believe her at the time.

Before blogging the kinkiest thing we’ve ever done in the bedroom was … umm… maybe we left the lights on once, maybe.  Now we have a box full of toys that runnth over – we’ve used blind folds, cuffs, hot cream, flavored oils, ginger, plugs, vibrators, crops, paddles, floggers, straps, belts, hairbrushes, and even a few things I’ve never mentioned here. And should anything else ever appeal to us we’ll try that too.

And most importantly I have a marriage – not a roommate situation, but a real marriage. Nick and I love each other and we like each other, we talk more, we do more together.  Our marriage is still a work in progress and I hope it always will be, but I sure love where it is now.

Again to every person who has ever come by to read and especially to those who have left a comment.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Sex, spanking and laughter

The title describes my Friday afternoon and really, what more could you ask for? We’ve been married a while now and we’re not kids. We don’t have to have sex several times a day, or even several times a week. The truth is we have sex when we feel like it, and that’s really great.

Since we were hurt on our trip we haven’t pushed it – there was no rush, but finally the last remnants of scabs were gone from my leg and most from Nick’s knee. He’d seen his doctor about his shoulder and so Friday afternoon he found me, and swinging his arm in a spanking motion ask if I’d like to help him with a little therapy.  I was happy to oblige.

I snuggled down on the bed as I heard him mention he’d hadn’t been able to give me his birthday spanking yet and then we quibbled a bit about his age. He seems much younger than the official number and I was willing to settle for the age he seems. He felt the true number was mandatory including one to grow on. He usually uses a different implement for each decade and that suits me fine, although despite Eva’s attraction to it, I’ve never been overly fond of the crop. I think his belt is still my favorite. His shoulder did give him a little pain, so he switched to his left had. He did fine with the birthday spanking and even remembered some cleaning issues he wanted to take up with me.

As the spanking came to an end the lovemaking began – as did the laughter. You might be surprised at how much your shoulders come into play during sex. Even when I offered to do some kneeling on the bed and just let him lay back it was a little awkward.  My leg is still very tender and I needed to stick it our, again awkward and it began to cramp.  We needed to change positions, changing in itself took some strategy. He couldn’t roll real well, I couldn’t get up on my knees so good. We found it was easier to get out of bed, turn around and start over.

I was very worried about his shoulder dislocating again. Nick and I have been watching a show called, “Sex sent me to the ER” where the real people explain what happened as the scene is being reenacted. 
I enjoy watching them explain how ‘this’ got stuck ‘there.’ They talk about it being their most embarrassing experiences, yet there they are on TV sharing it with the world. I simply didn’t want to join their ranks after hastily dressing and getting clothes on Nick only to try to explain to the ER doctor in our little town that, “Well he was trying to go over and I was reaching for the vibrator at the same time he swung the paddle, and well…”

To tell the truth we had a hoot and accomplished everything we’d set out to do, but with much more laughter than normal. The laughter didn’t lessen any as Nick said, “You realize this is just going to get worse with artificial hips and knees.” I can’t call it romantic in the traditional sense, but really it was. And we’ve definitively decided that there will be no sex tape in our future, not that it was in question.

Why do I tell these tales on myself, for a couple of reason? Friends my age understand completely and they will laugh and know that they aren’t alone, and also for my younger blogging friends. I know some of you are in your twenties and thirties, and I know you’re having fun and not imagining the sex after fifty or sixty or seventy or… But it’s there and if you’re still with your best friend, it will always be wonderful.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Fantasy Friday - Another Encounter

Happy Friday! I'm glad to be able to bring you another story today. To tell the truth I worry about the continuation of Fantasy Friday, but every time I think that's it, no more, I get a few new stories in and I really do appreciate it.
Today’s story is from Peter. Peter has written for us before about a group he was part of for a time before he moved from the area. You can read his first story here. Today we can read about another session he had with the group. Please enjoy…

Another Encounter

Your readers might be interested in a follow up to my last story. This one is about some of the people I met in that group during the time I spent there. One lady in particular comes to mind, her name was Melina.   I don’t know her surname, no one ever bothered with them. She was quite a small lady but a very experienced one, as I found out! What she lacked in size, she more than made up for in skill! With a strap or a crop, she was out on her own. Having had both from her, I can vouch for that.
I was just drifting around in the group one evening, not involved with anyone, just looking at the action, so to speak, picking up a few hints from both spankers and spankees. No body minded, that’s the way it was there. Next thing the door opened and this lady stormed in, under full steam and made straight for the coffee maker, with a look that would melt steel. I said to myself" There’s one lady who’s had a bad day, God help whoever she picks" Then it slowly dawned on me that I was the only loose cannon there, I decided to get lost, and quick! I glanced over to see her talking to John, the guy who ran the show [the man who introduced me to the group] I saw John saying something to her and nodding in my direction.
She gave me a long hard look, finished her drink, and marched over, stopped right in front of me and barked, “Are you Peter?" I said, "Yes, I am." Next, "I’m Melina, I’ve had a lousy day and I’ve got to take it out on someone. I need to tan some ones arse, and you seem to be the only one around, John said you prefer to take it rather than give it, so how about it?" Talk about a direct approach! I said, "John was right, but you look like you mean to give more than a tanning." "I do, but I have to ask you first, and you can always refuse, you know that." However, she was not the kind of person to take no for an answer, and I was curious to see what she had in mind, after all, that was my whole reason for being there in the first place and it was considered bad form to refuse too many times [I never did refuse].
I said, "That depends, what do you have in mind?" "I want to take a strap to your arse, simple as that!"
"Do you think you would be able to manage it?"
"Just try me, young man"
"OK, how do you want me [meaning, over the knee, touch my toes, over the bench ect. ]"
 "Naked, that’s how and fast!"
 Teasing, I said, "Can I not keep my briefs on?"
"No, you cant, I want to see what I’m doing, so get stripped right now while I go pick a strap"
"Be sure to pick a light one"
"That choice is mine, don’t worry, I’ll pick a suitable one."
I said to myself, "That’s what I’m afraid of."
She came back a few minuets later with a strap that would put fear into any man, together with a small leather bag which she handed to me, saying "Here, put this on and lace it up, I don’t want to cut your balls off, once we get started" This was a leather bag used to protect the testicles against stray strokes.
"Right, bend over, hands on the floor, spread your legs, and don’t move". Then Swish, Swish and CRACK ! and again CRACK!. I did, not just move, I jumped!
"Hold still, stop jumping around or I’ll have to cuff you." The next two strokes were much the same, this time I nearly lost my balance. Dropping the strap on the floor, she said, “This is no good, get over here to the trestle and lie over it. Grab the frame while I cuff your hands" Did that, “Now spread your legs wide while I fix your ankles" Did that. "Spread them, "wider, “I got them out a bit more, then, she said," I said spread them wider, young man, and I mean WIDER"
I said, “I can’t get them any wider"
"That’s what you think, try this." With that, my, legs were pulled left and right so far that I thought I was being split open, they were then cuffed to the frame. There would be no more jumping around, nor was there! With that, she began the real strapping. As I said, she was quite a small person, but very, very experienced. Every stroke was placed exactly where intended with the result that the entire area was covered, not once, but many times. I yelped, I yelled, I even cried, made no difference, she just carried on. Some of the others stopped to watch and to egg her on. “Lay into him, give it to him, make him yelp, ect" She did! How many did I get? I lost count after about forty; I was too busy wondering where the next one was going to land. My arse felt like it was stretched flat, wide open [I heard afterwards, it was] Then-------  nothing more, it was all over!!
I just lay there, afraid to move, my bum near to melting point, stinging all over. I was released and stood up, slowly, to a big cheer from the onlookers. I did my best to give them a bow in return, but nearly fell over! My spanker gave me a big hug and said "Thank you very much Peter, I feel better after that" I said, "I’m glad that one of us feels better, can’t say I do, right now"
"You’ll get over it, you’re a strong lad, and you did very well, you took fifty straps, John trained you well, come, lets have a coffee, and a chat, I want to talk to you."
We drank our coffees, she, sitting, me standing, and had a long talk about many things. The fact that I was still naked only dawned on me afterwards, but no one passed any remark on it, they were that kind of a bunch. I remarked that I did not think that I could have taken so many, but she said that John was watching all the time and would have stopped it if he thought I was not up to it, he makes sure that nobody gets injured. "By the way, “she said, “I’m glad to see that you got turned on during it “glancing down at my crotch!
I said, "Shit, I never even noticed, I’m sorry about that"
"No need to be, get worried when that does not happen."
We met up many times after that and each time was a whole new experience, I learned a lot from Melina!


Thank you, Peter. This sound like it was a great group of like-minded people. I hope you’ll share more. Folks you can reach Peter at peterdunbar.x.800@gmail.com And you all know I’m always looking for stories, so if you’re willing to share send your story to elisspeaks@yahoo.com